bombalurima's Maiko100
by bombalurima
Summary: Stolen right from the LJ community, as well as omoni's profile. 100 prompts for 100 fics. Ratings may vary from fic to fic.
1. Beginnings

**A/N: A series of fics that I discovered on my chum omoni's page-I assure you, they will be different from her's, but the prompts are one and the same. I'm feeling bold and saying to expect a one-a-day update on this. Enjoy!**

* * *

Zuko could remember, and never would forget, the day he had first met Mai.

His mother had told him that Azula was bringing two little friends of her's home from school to play, and that he should stay out of the way—it wasn't his place to meddle with his sister's new playmates.

"Why would I want to play with _girls _anyway?" He asked Ursa in genuine confusion and annoyance, to which she laughed. Secretly though, Zuko felt a twinge of irritation. Because Azula got to go to school, she also got to make friends. He was stuck here at the palace with no one for company but an endless string of tutors.

Nevertheless, Zuko did his best to heed his mother's request, and didn't even go to say hello to his sister's new friends when she ran to greet them at the door. Instead, he skulked outside to the turtleduck pond and dully watched the animals swim, the sound of their quacking and distantly, a bird song, the only noise in the entire courtyard.

He wondered what it might be like to have a friend.

"Hello." A tiny, breathless little voice suddenly broke him out of his brooding, and he turned around so fast that he almost fell into the pond.

A girl about his age stood there, with the palest skin he had ever seen, as well as the shiniest hair. Raven black and gleaming brightly in the afternoon sunlight, it was all he could do not to stare at it, slightly mesmerized. She was pretty, he noticed, like a china doll.

"Er…hello." Zuko greeted her a little awkwardly back, giving her a halfhearted wave.

"You must be Azula's brother…Prince Zuko?" Her voice was quiet, a little raspy, quite unalike his sister's sticky-sweet one. He found it a welcome change.

"Yes…that's me." Zuko had to admit, it was nice to be acknowledged—he was more used to people forgetting about his existence entirely, eclipsed forever by the sun that was his sister.

"Oh, well…I-I'm Mai," She introduced herself, a small blush rising up on her cheeks and adding an unexpected burst of color to her face. It was cute, Zuko noticed in the back of his mind. At eight years old, he took attention in such things.

"Are you one of Azula's friends?" What a fascinating conversation they were having. And what a dumb question he had just asked—of course she was! What were the odds that some random girl just happened to wander onto the palace grounds?

"Yes…but we're supposed to be playing a game now. Hide and seek."

Hide and seek was one of Azula's favorite games. She loved being 'it', loved to stalk and chase down her prey. She had made Zuko play it with her all too often, and he had come to form a sort of private loathing for it—it got quite tiresome after a while to constantly be the hunted, instead of the hunter, as Azula always insisted she had to be. He could see by the girl's (no, her name was _Mai—_what a nice name that was. Simple, but pretty, and he liked how it sounded later when he said it out loud, like something fresh, new, and beautiful, like spring) face that she probably wasn't too thrilled at being forced to hide from the princess either.

"Have you found a hiding spot yet?" Zuko asked her, still sitting on the ground—it was best to appear not to be _too _interested.

"No." Her lips formed into a tiny pout.

"I can help you!" Without a beat of hesitation, Zuko leaped to his feet, and surprise flitted across her face.

"Really? You would do that?" Mai asked, hardly daring to believe her good luck.

"Of course!" Zuko insisted. "Now come on, before she starts looking for you!"

He grabbed her hand without thinking twice about it, and scurried off, half-pulling her along behind him. Mai was more than a little taken aback, and allowed herself to be led by the boy she had just met scarcely more than a minute ago.

Zuko took her just about all around the palace before he found a decent hiding spot—behind the curtains in one of the many elegant sitting rooms.

"Now stay quiet," He ordered her, breathing heavily from the mad chase he had pulled her along on. "We don't want to be caught."

Mai nodded obediently and didn't say a word—for the first half hour that she and the prince were concealed behind the curtains. Afterwards, he deemed it all right to talk a little, just so long as it was kept to a whisper. They certainly didn't want Azula to find them.

There wasn't much the two had to say at first…they had only just met after all, and they were nothing more than children. But somehow, the silence between them spoke for them, an enticing, comfortable silence, that was the first witness to the bond between Mai and Zuko.

Finally though, Azula caught them, with the assistance of her other friend (a bright, bubbly little thing who always seemed to be smiling and seemed extremely annoying to Zuko), Ursa, and half a dozen servants she had employed to help her with her mission.

Azula was, needless to say, not very happy with either her brother of her new friend, and spent the rest of the night pouting about how Zuko was such a mean, dumb brother, and threatening that he had better not try such a thing again, or she would make him sorry.

Zuko, for once in his life, was able to completely block her from his mind. He was thinking of another girl entirely, the small dark-haired girl with the shy smile and faint blush, who had giggled softly when Zuko had crowed gleefully in her ear that he didn't think Azula would _ever _find them, who had whispered to him just before she left that she hoped to see him again soon.

He simply could not wait to see her again.


	2. Hands

**A/N: This came to me in a burst of inspiration. Based on some dialogue in the movie _Titanic. _**

**Rose: I think you were in love with this woman, Jack.**

**Jack: No, no. Just her hands.**

_

* * *

_

Mai sometimes thought that she could carry on a love affair with Zuko's hands, and only his hands, and that would be more than enough for her.

She was utterly fascinated by them, by the shape, the delicate bones of his fingers, the palm she loved to press kisses too and hear his breath hitch in his throat.

They were not exactly a fine gentleman's hands, smooth and refined, but rather, rough and calloused from his years spent in exile, his years training and working and _fighting _to make his way back to his home. Some woman may have preferred the feel of baby-soft palms gliding up and down her body and stroking her face, but Mai was not one of them. The coarse feel they had to them was absolutely thrilling, and felt achingly good on her skin.

His hands were big too, so much larger than her's. They would press them together, palm to palm, and she would be taken aback every time by how big they were next to her's. Zuko would always laugh lightly at the look on her face and link their fingers together, pulling their intertwined hands up to press a kiss to her's. Mai would sigh then, the softest sigh her body was capable of making, and he would then press their entangled hands to his heart, where she could feel it beating faster underneath his shirt, sometimes (most times) only beneath his skin.

Zuko's hands had an uncanny habit of growing hotter the more he was aroused, so hiding his desire became absolutely impossible. She could feel the heat from his palms when he touched her, sometimes gasping at the jolt of warmth that shot through her when the flat of his hand connected with her skin. There was always the risk that he might lose control, that his lust would run away with him and actual flames would burst from his hands, but Mai never doubted him once—hurting her wasn't a feat he could physically accomplish now without destroying himself.

She lies there in the dark and feels his hands, his wonderful, beautiful hands coasting up and down her body at a slow, torturously perfect pace and closes her eyes to the sensation, wave after wave of pure bliss gently washing over her.

As much as some may claim that her little affair with his hands couldn't be anything but one-sided, Mai begs entirely to differ—the love is entirely mutual. That is what she loves about them the most.


	3. Strength

**A/M: This came to me after rewatching "The Boiling Rock" episodes today. The Boiling Rock is, of course, the ultimate Mai scene, in which we learn something incredible about her-despite all of her previous attitudes, gloom-and-doom, boredom, negative mannerisms, her strongest character trait is, in actuality, her ability to love. Her actions at the Boiling Rock is without a doubt one of the most amazing, self-sacrificing moments in the entire series-and best of all, it came from the girl we previously are told doesn't feel much of anything. This is sort of a tribute to that scene, and Mai in general-she doesn't get half of the respect/love that she deserves.**

* * *

Love, Azula honestly and wholeheartedly believed, was for fools.

Ozai had taught her as such, Mai knew. The only way they truly believed that they could keep someone's trust and loyalty was by instilling fear in them, by ruling them ruthlessly and without the slightest drop of mercy or sympathy. They had to make it clear who was in charge, who was calling the shots, and what the consequences would be should those below them ever forget.

As such, Azula treated her two 'friends', Mai and Ty Lee, like the little henchladies that they were—cunning, strong, good enough to be her comrades, but _always _beneath her. Zuko knew, as Uncle had told him once a long time ago (and he in turn assured the same thing to Mai), that people like Azula act the way they do because of one reason:

They are insecure. They are paranoid, frightened people at the center of them, and Azula is no exception to this. She bullies and orders Mai and Ty Lee around for one reason, and one reason only—someday, she fears they are going to turn and betray her. To ensure this never happens, she maintains in them a healthy, respectable combination of fear and awe, enough to _guarantee _that they will never, ever realize the _real _power they have inside them.

Azula's weapon is her ability to instill fear in not just her friends, but all of those around her—it is her greatest strength. Without it, she would not be the same person at all.

Mai has always lived in fear of Azula, has bowed under the might that is the princess, and has made no attempt to break away, to speak her own mind, to let her real feelings out.

She has never before had the strength to do so.

But in that one moment, when she lifted her head to meet Azula's gaze directly, eye-to-eye, her glance not bowed down in submission or boredom, and spat out those words of defiance, the _truest _words she had ever spoken before in her life, she could feel it.

It was her own strength, in that moment. It was what had caused her to take out too many prison guards to count without a second thought. It was what had led her to kick free the bar holding the gondola in place, so the line could move again. It was what had inspired her to look the princess, her life-long tormentor, dead on in the eyes and say the words she had been longing to say for ages now, but had never the _power _to.

"_I love Zuko more than I fear you."_

Love. It had been there with her the whole time, pounding away in her veins like a second bloodstream, giving her the courage, the will, the power to do everything she had done, to sacrifice her own life.

At that moment, she had been more powerful than Azula.

In that moment, she had been stronger than her.

Perhaps that was the real reason why the princess had wanted to take her down so desperately in those next few moments—she had expected utter loyalty out of her silky, quiet lapdog, not this sudden disobedience.

And what was more than that—this little lapdog had bitten her as well. Enough to make Azula bleed.

Mai was stronger than she was. Maybe she had been, all along.

But her strength did not come from fear, from control, from breaking the will of everyone around you until they submitted to your command.

Mai's strength came from her love for Zuko, entirely from her love—and that was, no matter what the princess or the Fire Lord himself might say, nothing for fools. It is something that inspires miracles.


	4. Weakness

**A/N: Wow, this turned out way longer than I expected. Nevertheless, I'm rather happy with it. **

**Note: Contains references to the comic 'Going Home Again' and the episode The Boiling Rock.**

* * *

Even from a young age, Azula had always known how to get to her brother.

She was his tormentor, and she did nothing better than that what she was so skilled in. He could even be willing to bet she was better at taunting him than Firebending, something she was, of course, a prodigy at.

His sister had learned cruelty and deception at their father's knee, this Zuko knew. She had an uncanny knack for spotting the weak points in her opponents, for knowing just what buttons she had to push in order to bend people to her will, and she practiced this art on her brother.

There were many different things she knew she could torment him about—being the least favorite was a popular and efficient one, as was his weak Firebending, but those tended to get boring after a little while.

There was one thing that never changed though, one thing that she always knew would bring a flush to his face and a stutter to his voice, and he would become utterly helpless to the taunts she barraged on him afterwards. Just the mere mention of Mai, and he would be putty in her hands.

It annoyed Azula that she had to use Mai like that, to purposely bring out Zuko's feelings for her best friend when she really only wanted the dark-haired girl all to herself, but if it benefited her in some way, there was nothing she would not do.

When they were little, Azula used Zuko's crush on Mai as one more thing to tease him about, one more thing to make him squirm and flounder and wriggle like a worm on a hook. It wasn't for much more than her own amusement, an interesting game that she played with her brother, the sure-fire way to beat him back into his rightful place: beneath her.

When the siblings met up again in Ba Sing Se, three years after his banishment, after the defeat of the Avatar, and after their uncle's arrest, Zuko had been only reluctant to journey back to the Fire Nation. The princess was heavily irked by this. Going home had been the one thing he had been striving for during his time in exile, returning to his country and restoring the honor long since denied of him had been the reason he got up in the morning, the one shining, just-out-of-reach goal he had strived for for countless ages. Now, here the time was, welcoming him with open arms—and he was dragging his feet about it.

Despite her whining, her persisting, and even her taunting, nothing Azula said or did could budge her brother. Where he had once been easily manipulated and bullied into doing everything she ordered of him, it seemed that as the years went by, he had developed a strong will of his own, perhaps enough to rival that of her own. It simply would not do. Azula needed a better strategy. She needed a trump card, a weak spot, somethinghe could not resist.

It came to her in such a burst of glorious inspiration; she honestly could not believe she hadn't thought of it sooner.

Maybe it was a bit crude to be using Mai as nothing more than live bait (more or less) but when it came down to such matters, the princess did what she had to do. Playing off of her brother and Mai's former soft spots for each other had been a genius idea—true, it had been risky, expecting those old feelings to still be lingering under the surface and hoping to reawaken them and therefore, give Zuko the final push he needed to return to the Fire Nation with them, but Azula should not have worried.

Her brother had an Achilles' heel in the form of the quiet, gloomy girl with the wry smiles and sharp knives, and Azula had always known that.

* * *

_Azula always knows, _Zuko cried in his head as he lay curled up on his cot in the dark of the Western Air Temple, his friends all blissfully asleep around him. To them, it had been a joyous day of victory and reunion. Hakoda, Sokka and Katara's father, had returned to them in once piece. Their family was together again. Suki, the girl with vivid auburn hair and a spirit just as bright, was obviously someone the group all knew well and cared about—particularly Sokka. A lump formed in Zuko's throat when he saw the way the two looked at each other—even though Suki was in a ratty prison uniform, her appearance a tad bit worse for wear, Sokka still looked at her like she was the most beautiful thing in the world.

It made Zuko's longing for Mai, which had only increased after seeing her again at the Boiling Rock (despite the rather tense meeting that they had shared) stab him like a knife in the gut and twist, an aching pain that even now, hours after their flight from the prison, refused to fade.

Mai had saved him. She had saved them all, though Zuko knew no one else had been her real intention. She was fighting for him, only for him, so he could keep his freedom, could keep his _life, _and finish the quest that she could not follow him on—but she could aid him with, in her own way.

His heart had swollen with pride and love in that moment, surprise as well, but it wasn't until a bit later when a freezing cold feeling had overcame him, like an icy hand passing over his spine and seizing ahold of his very soul until he couldn't breathe.

Azula knew how to hurt him. She knew what caused terror in him, what made him happy, but most importantly, what could bring him to his knees.

It was the same answer for all of those things. Azula knew what it was. And she did not take kindly to rebellion.

Zuko lay there in the darkness, on what was in actuality a calm, warm, and peaceful night, steady, content breathing all around him, and fell apart.

When Azula took aim, she never missed.


	5. Dreams

**A/N: Takes place right after 'The Western Air Temple.' Happy with how this one turned out :)**

* * *

It took the rogue prince rather taken aback when Sokka glanced over the rim of his cup of tea and informed Zuko that the previous night, he had been saying a name in his sleep.

"I—what?" Zuko blinked, taken aback. It was only his third day as a member of the Avatar's (Aang…the Avatar had a name now, he had to remember) group, and he was still getting adjusted to it, as was everyone else. Though the little blind Earthbender had accepted him willingly enough, and Aang had followed suit, the Water Tribe girl still refused to do anything but glare darkly at him, and her brother didn't seem as if he knew exactly how to handle the latest accommodation. It surprised Zuko to realize that the other boy was talking to him now.

"You were talking in your sleep last night," Sokka repeated, arching an eyebrow. "You kept saying some girl's name…Mai?"

Ordinarily, Zuko might have smiled. Yes, Mai had visited him in his dreams last night, had been there with him. There had been no one but the two of them, whether they had been outside or inside was lost on him, but that scarcely mattered. The point was, she had been there, there in his arms, that warm glow in her gold eyes and a soft smile on her lips as she stroked his face with long, delicate fingers. He had buried his face in her hair and inhaled that sweet but somehow spicy scent that was Mai, glided his hands up and down the dips and curves of her body, and could feel her very presence wash over and flood every one of his senses.

Even now, he thought he could taste her on his lips.

She had been so _real, _so very real and solid and soft in his arms, her hair like silk and her skin like cream. When Zuko had woken up to discover that she was not there, just a thin cot and a hard temple floor beneath him, he could have screamed. The only sign that he had once held her in his embrace was the ache in his heart and the sudden stinging he felt in his eyes.

Zuko didn't answer Sokka. He got to his feet and walked right past the Water Tribe boy, ignoring his startled squawk of indignation, and made his way over to the ledge, away from the rest of the group and to one of the pillars supporting the domed ceiling above them, leaning against it and staring up into the wide blue sky, knowing that somewhere, Mai was looking at the same thing.

Did she miss him as much as he missed her? Did she feel the same throbbing pain as he did? Did she dream about him every night and every day, as he did with her?

Zuko would not have been surprised if the answer was no.

He would not have been surprised if the answer was yes.

The thought of this brought a sudden prickling sensation behind his eyelids, and he had to shut his eyes and turn away from the sun. It wasn't time to think about that now. Now, he had work with Aang to do.

But later on tonight, when all was quiet, when the sounds of steady, even breathing filled the soft night air, and his eyes drifted shut…he would be with Mai again. That alone was enough to encourage him to open his eyes and walk back to the others, ready for the day to start, shoving aside all thoughts of her, for the time being.

He would see her later, if it was only in his dreams.


	6. Silence

Oftentimes, no words were needed.

Zuko wasn't very good with them. Neither was Mai. Though a nice little "I love you" or something of the like could appear in their intimate moments together, both of them preferred to express their feelings in a way that only they could share, in a way that showed their love and their desire far more than simple syllables could.

He could see it oftentimes, the gleam in her pale yellow eyes as she looked at him, her quiet confidence and faith in him shimmering there like sunlight flickering in a pool of liquid amber, and knew, by that look alone, that she would always be there for him, a steadfast companion who would never once fail him.

She felt his hands cup her face or stroke her body, trembling beneath them, silently marveling—they were tender enough to caress her in the softest of ways, yet strong enough to hold her together when she felt like she was falling apart.

He could feel it when she kissed him, her need, her longing, her pure adoration for him. Sometimes she clutched at him tightly like he was the only thing keeping her anchoring her to the earth, sometimes she stroked his chest with the softest glide of her fingertips, touching him like at any moment, he would dissolve into ash, and therefore, was the most precious thing in the world.

She knew, as she held him after a passionate round of lovemaking and as she felt him tremble against her, that he was overcome with his emotions, with his need, the strength of his love for her. It always, always, took her by surprise when he lifted his head to meet her gaze and she saw the _look_ in his golden eyes. He would kiss her then, slow and deep, like he could pour his emotions out of himself and into her.

A simple look, a tender touch, or sometimes, even a breath shared in unison—whatever it was, Mai and Zuko had their own ways of telling each other just how deeply they loved one another.

It was amazing how loudly their silence spoke.


	7. Home

**A/N: Inspired, completely, utterly and totally by the absolutely gorgeous song 'I Will Always Return' from the DreamWorks movie _Spirit: Stallion of the Cimmaron. _**

_"I've seen every sunset, and with all that I've learned:_

_Is to you, I will always, always return."_

* * *

When Zuko was a little boy and he thought of home, he always thought of his mother, of warm hugs and tender kisses, of her soft voice wishing him goodnight and her warm smile always there to bid him good morning. He thought of a tiny dark-haired girl with soft hands and softer smiles.

After his banishment, when Zuko thought of home, he thought of honor, of glory, of a throne denied to him. He thought of his father's smile of approval, of Azula's glare of jealousy, of a crown resting on top of his dark hair. He thought of a budding young lady with the sweetest taste imaginable and the silkiest hair possible.

When he had returned from his years of exile, when he had returned home, the one goal he had strived to accomplish for ages now, it felt wrong. Hollow. It wasn't the victory he had expected, it was not _anything _like he had expected.

His father talked to him. His father gave him approving nods, small smiles, quick, brief flashes that he was proud.

But he was proud of someone that Zuko really was not.

Azula was not jealous in the slightest. She relished in his false glory, in the fact that she could tell that his insides still squirmed whenever someone brought up that he was a hero. Nothing had changed with his sister.

The one thing, the only thing, that kept him from screaming himself hoarse was Mai.

She was not like what he had expected either—she was better.

It felt so wonderful, to be in love, and to know that you were loved in return. He spent hours wrapped up with her on a couch in the daytime, and later on, the entire night was passed in each other's arms, bare bodies pressed together and hearts beating as one. He'd kiss her forehead, her eyelids, her nose, her cheeks, her mouth…anything he could reach, and want to cry with the sheer, overwhelming joy of one who is in love…but is not entirely at peace.

He wanted to absorb her, for her to melt into his skin so he could carry her with him always, and sometimes, when she lay on top of him or next to him, he almost felt like she could.

It was because she was his everything, he knew. She was the one thing that had always kept him anchored to a world through which he had fought many trials, for which he had struggled for his honor. Mai was always there, the one thing he knew he would return to.

Zuko didn't have a choice though—it came as easy to him as tearing his own arm off, leaving Mai in such a way, but he knew what he had to do was the right thing. He _knew _somewhere deep down, that what he was doing was right…and he hoped Mai, somehow, someway would understand. She would still be his anchor, his guiding light, as she had been before, that much he absolutely knew was true.

When she came back to him, her cheeks pink and her eyes bright, and he put his arms around her, Zuko knew it for certain this time—he really was home. And this time, he was here to stay.


	8. Open

_A/N: Takes place post-series._

* * *

**Housewarming**

When Mai moved into the royal palace not even a year after the war's end, the servants inside all set out preparing a room for her. They assured Zuko that it would be magnificent, a lovely room for a lovely young woman. The smoothest silk, the most elegant furniture was ordered, everything that a woman of her station could possibly need or want in her room.

Zuko had preparations of the room halted quickly.

"But my lord!" Protested one of the maids, looking quite bewildered. "Do you not wish for the Lady Mai to have a beautiful, well-furnished room to stay in?"

"Of course I do," Zuko responded. "Which is why she's staying in mine."

The servants, as they had learned was the wisest course of action oftentimes, did not ask any further.

The Fire Lord's bedchamber was massive, a room at least three times as large as the one Zuko had resided in during his days as only a prince. Everything was red, trimmed in gold, the spacious silk bed was overloaded with pillows in varying size and shape, and elegant veils were tied to each post, ready to be pulled down and over should he wish to enclose himself in privacy.

On either side of the room stood two closets—one for the Fire Lord, one for the Fire Lady. Mai appreciated the irony of this the moment one of the servants informed her just who her new walk-in closet was _meant _to be for, and secretly smiled. She and Zuko were as good as married already—the idiot was just taking a bit long to propose, for whatever reason.

Now, she and Zuko stood in her closet once again, Mai giving the place another look-over.

"It's awfully dusty," She remarked, eyeing the shelves with distaste.

"No one's used it since my grandmother died," Zuko pointed out, shifting from foot to foot. "I'll have it cleaned before you bring your things in."

Mai nodded, and stepped back out of the closest, moving instead to sit down on the edge of his bed. She patted the space next to her, smiling over at Zuko, who willingly followed behind, moving to sit as she had indicated.

"Thank you…" She leaned over and pressed a quick kiss to his lips.

"For what?" Zuko looked a little bewildered.

"Letting me stay," Mai shrugged, leaning back on her hands, the image of casual grace. "I know it isn't traditional for me to be moving in yet….not until we're engaged…"

She let the word hang in the air, a soap bubble of hope and dreams waiting to be burst.

"So, we got started a little early," Zuko had to smile. "I'm just trying to be productive here."

"Mmm…" Mai slid her arms around him, whispering in his ear as she did so, "Well, I like 'productive'…."


	9. Closed

_A/N: Sorry this took so long to update! I'm hoping to keep the updates added fairly reguarly from now on though..._

_Occurs during 'The Beach.' Because Mai and Zuko's relationship isn't perfect..._

* * *

Zuko hated it when Mai shut herself off. She would turn away, her gaze dimming, a small frown forming on her face, and heave a bone-rattling sigh. She would then refuse to speak another word, unless it was a complaint or a remark of how bored she was.

Sometimes, it made Zuko want to grit his teeth in frustration. He loved Mai, yes…but why did she have to act like that? He was an expressive person, someone who wore his heart on his sleeve. He could not see how Mai could keep herself shut up like that, how she could shove her real feelings away and replace them with near-constant boredom and irritation.

He had not meant to say what had exploded out of him at that awful party.

Or had he?

"_At least I feel something, as opposed to you. You have no passion for anything! You're just a big blah!"_

They had been harsh words, maybe too harsh, and even now as he walked along the moonlit beach, he could see the brief flash of hurt in her pale gold eyes before she turned around and told him they were done.

_Done. _Over.

They were such hard, deliberate words.

How could something he had been waiting for for three years now end in one night, in two sentence's, in just a few words? Perhaps it had been foolish of him to honestly think that he and Mai would have a wonderful relationship, something he had dreamed about for days on end during his banishment.

But no…Mai was honestly everything he could have ever hoped for. She had a few things about her that he did not like…but at the end of the day, he would not and could not picture himself loving anybody else.

Perhaps his remark had been too cruel.

Perhaps it had been right on the mark.

Either way, he knew he could not let their relationship stand as what it was now—broken before it had the chance to heal, dead before it could be properly brought to life.

Still…a part of him, a tiny voice in the back of his head nagged away at him, and he knew it would be no used stifling it:

He wanted her to open up to him so desperately it nearly hurt. He wanted her to be able to smile with him, to enjoy herself, to let him know what she was thinking and how she was feeling. Zuko supposed it might be hard for her…a lifetime of suppressing her emotions could surely not be easy to put behind her.

But he had hope that someday, she might finally do so. Someday, she might let him inside her heart.

That was why he was following Azula now, to the campfire in the distance where two distant forms sat, no doubt Mai and Ty Lee. Hope was a powerful thing—but he dared to believe that it might serve him well this time around.


	10. Possession

_A/N: Geez, it has been **way **too long since I updated this! O_O_

_I'm sorry if I've kept anyone waiting-I promise, it'll be back to regular updating from now on!_

* * *

**Possession**

Since the war's end, Zuko has become more of a calmer man. He is not half as bad-tempered as he once was, not as likely to explode just as quickly and as violently in someone's face, and more capable of shrugging a minor event off that he had been before.

There is oftentimes only one exception to that.

Mai is beautiful; he knows that better than anyone else. He supposes, in all honesty, he cannot really blame the men who turn and stare at her as she walks by, can't blame their eyes for fixing right onto the sway of her hips and the gleam in her dark hair. Now that she is happy, completely, truthfully happy, she does not wear dark, heavy clothing as much anymore, and designs her hair in different styles. The loveliness she had hidden before behind a cold sneer and a glazed expression has burst into bloom now, a flower once hidden in shade and now exposed to sunlight.

Zuko catches men eyeing her hungrily, and he knows just exactly what is on their mind. He grits his teeth and holds back the savage urge that flares up inside him to put them back in their place...and he is always successful.

For recently, Zuko has discovered a far more satisfying and effective way of conveying the message that Mai is his, and no one else's.

Normally, he is a gentle person with her. He can be awkward, a bit of a hopeless romantic, but overall, he is sweet—he loves her like no one and nothing else in existence, and he makes that clear to her every day. But sometimes, an uncontrollable urge takes ahold of him, a dark, well-hidden side of his personality arises, and there is little he can do to fight it.

Mai knows by now that when Zuko is in such a mood, she will be utterly dominated that night. It's somewhat terrifying, mostly thrilling, and extremely erotic. She cannot say what it is about the feel of his hands, so much larger and stronger than her's, pinning her down and holding her in place that she finds so exhilarating, but she loses her breath every time.

Zuko, on the contrary, takes this time to mark what is _his,_ and only his. He bites where he normally kisses. He nips at the long, pale column of her neck, leaving a row of marks there that, come morning, will be noticeable to all, angry red sores against the china white of her skin. Mai's breathing always becomes shallow and heavy during these times, and the lust running within his blood only pounds away faster. Later on, she'll turn beet red as she inspects her neck in the mirror, before seeking a way to hide the marks. He is secretly pleased, and can't help but feel a malicious, possessive jolt course through him.

Of course, he has his Bending to thank for Mai's other marks as well. The first time he saw the faint burns on her hips, he nearly choked. Zuko had reached a trembling hand out and lined his fingers up perfectly with the imprints, and realized that it had been _he_ who had caused them...he had _branded_ her.

It sickened him then, and he had stammered out an awkward, yet heartfelt apology to her afterwards, and somehow, throughout the haze of his guilt and embarrassment, he missed the small yet definite look of wonder and satisfaction on Mai's face as she traced the marks on her hips and thighs.

"I'm so sorry..." He stammered then, and vowed to make sure that it never happened again.

Needless to say, he did not exactly keep his silent promise—and that dark side of him cannot help but grin, cannot help but feel a rush of dominance and satisfaction at the sight of his 'handiwork.' But there is still a part of him that is troubled by his behavior sometimes, for the desperate need for possession that he feels over Mai.

"You lose control sometimes," She informs him with an easy shrug of her narrow shoulders. "It...isn't all that bad."

She may be outwardly nonchalant about it, but inwardly, she smiles.


	11. Obsession

Zuko sometimes felt as if he could feast on his wife forever and never be able to get his fill.

Her skin was as pale and as sweet to the taste, and it was just as addicting. He would kiss up the long column of Mai's neck and listen to her tiny mews, and feel the desire inside of him flare up even hotter and brighter than before.

Zuko could be having a casual conversation with Mai, when she would suddenly stand up to leave or to fetch something. He would watch her go, the way her hips swayed and how her hair shone in the light, and it would be all he could do not to pin her up against the wall and take her right there. Sometimes, he couldn't resist.

Whenever Zuko was trapped in a particularly dull meeting, his mind would wander onto Mai, and stay there until someone snapped him out of it. It was a good thing, he decided, that no one could read his thoughts—undoubtedly, they would cost him both his crown and his soul.

Mai was not like a drug to him, despite some of his friends teasing him as such. She was a necessity, yes…but she was a healthy one, like air to breathe. Without her, he simply couldn't exist.

He pointed this out to her one night in bed, pulling away from the deeply passionate kiss they had been sharing. Mai blinked, her eyes shifting back into focus as she tried to pull her mind out of the clouds.

"I'm…what?"

"Air," Zuko tried to explain, hoping he didn't sound like too much of a dork. "I…I need you, Mai…I can't get enough of you…"

His last words came out in a sigh as he kissed down her neck, burying his face into the crook of it and inhaling. A shiver ran up Mai's sigh at the sensation, and she brought her hands up to tangle in his mop of dark hair.

"You're such a _dork,_ Zuko…" She breathed into his ear.

Zuko lifted his head up to gaze down at her, and caught the blush on her cheeks. He pressed a kiss to her rose-petal lips and heard her sigh his name, and had to hold back a laugh.

Mai could call him a dork all she wanted. He knew that the obsession ran on a two-way street.


End file.
